


we were just getting started

by egberts



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Car Accident, Death, Depression, M/M, Sadstuck, Suicide, attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-05 05:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egberts/pseuds/egberts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>your name is dave strider and you just lost everything</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. everything will be alright

**Author's Note:**

> i recommend [this song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SeTNKH7Vvrw) for a better understanding of the title  
> also, i'm gonna pretend this is sort of an extension of the proposal thing i wrote  
> which can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/397485)

The sound of his laughter was music to your ears. It was a little too high pitched, a little too loud, a little too drawn out at times, but it was perfect. His teeth were diamonds in your eyes, absolutely flawless, no matter how big and buck they were. Your heart filled with joy just thinking about how in a weeks time he’d be yours forever. 

You can still vividly remember everything about that night, the one where you’d dropped to one knee and he’d agreed to marry you. His laughter momentarily ceased and you quirked and eyebrow at him. He simply shot you a playful smirk and resumed playing footsie with you under the table. Your pokerface finally broke and you wore an ear to ear grin, which was met with an equally huge grin from across the table.

Your name is Dave Strider and you’re currently out at dinner with your adorable fiance John Egbert, and frankly, you’ve never been happier. You couldn’t wait to marry him, to get a house rather than the small apartment you currently shared, maybe adopt a kid or two, go on family vacations… Nothing had ever been more perfect. When you were with John any and everything bad that had ever happened in your life sort of just went away.

John took a few bites of the food in front of him then pushed his plate to the side. He grinned at you again and propped himself up with his elbow on the table, “You done yet, slow poke?”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” You rolled your eyes.

“Maybe,” He drew out the ‘y’ innocently, “if you didn’t spend so much time playing footsie with your boyfriend.” 

“Maybe if my boyfriend wasn’t so goddamn distracting.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so easily distracted…”

“Maybe if _you_ didn’t spend so much time trying to distract me.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so easy to distract.” He paused and glanced down at the table. “Like right now, you’re still not eating.” He gestured a hand lazily at your plate.

“You were talking to me!” You playfully retorted.

“You were talking to me too!” He snapped back.

“Yeah well.. You started it.” You sourly poked your fork at your plate. He knew you were joking and giggled. You glared at him and took another bite.

“Done yet?” He prodded.

“Impatient much?” You laughed and took a couple more bites. “Okay there, done.”

“Good.” He stood up and came to your side of the table and leaned over. “Slowpoke.” His lips ever so delicately brushed against your cheek when he kissed you.

“Shut up,” You grabbed the collar of his shirt and guided his lips to yours for a real kiss, not a very long one, but pleasing nonetheless. He grinned at you again and you both got up to go pay for your meal.

Before you’d walked out the door to the parking lot he’d reached his hand down and interlocked fingers with yours. You stopped by your cars and gave him another quick kiss. You’d met up at the restaurant when you got off of work and he’d finished school for the day, so you each had your own car. His 1996 light blue Grand-Am and your shitty 1986 beat up convertible with doors that didn’t even work.

“I’ll meet you back at home, kay?” You said when you pulled away from the kiss.

“Kay!” He smiled again and got into his car. “Love you!”

“I love you too.” You also let a small smile slip across your lips. He pulled out of the parking lot before you, but you weren’t far behind him.

You had the music up half way, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, about three cars behind John. After what seemed like forever at a red light, it turned green. John was the first in the line and he started moving. 

Before you could register what had happened a four wheel drive ran the red light a plowed right into John’s driver’s side door. You slammed on your brakes, narrowly avoiding colliding with the minivan in front of you.

Everything was drown out, your music the surrounding traffic, everything. You strugged to get your seatbelt off. You momentarily forgot the your car door didn’t work and got very frustrated with it before finally hopping over it.

You were running as fast as you could towards John’s car, but everything was going in slow motion. The onlookers staring at you, the sound of the other driver’s horn wailing out (probably because they’d been thrust against the steering wheel upon impact), the only thing you were focused on was John’s car but you couldn’t get to it fast enough. You were holding back tears, hardly breathing, trying not to fall. The cold metal of his car made contact with your skin and everything sped up.

You ripped open the passenger’s side door and clambered over to him. He wasn’t moving. His eyes weren’t open. You didn’t pay attention to all the blood he was losing or the compromising position he was in. You grabbed onto his shoulders and shook him lightly. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying now and hissing swears and pleas under your breath, “John, no, fuck, fuck, shit. Fuck, John, wake up. WAKE UP!” You let out another heart wrenching sob, “Please John, please wake up!” 

Your senses momentarily cleared themselves and you pulled out your phone to dial 911. You were practically screaming at the operator, she told you several other calls were made and a crew was already on their way, you told her they weren’t on their way fast enough. She reassured you it would be alright and asked you to stay on the line, you sobbed into the receiver as she tried to keep you calm.  

The sound of sirens drew closer, you inwardly breathed a sigh of relief and look over at John again. The sight of him like this made your stomach turn.

A police man tapped on the glass and you exited the vehicle, quick to tell him everything, by the time you’d finished you were crying again. He latched a hand onto your shoulder and, just like the lady on the phone, reassured you it would be okay. 

Hearing everyone say it’d be okay was NOT the same as it actually being okay, and you knew that, and these people knew that, everyone knew it, but nobody was going to say it. Nobody was going to tell you right then and there that your life was completely fucked, that your boyfriend was dying and you might as well fucking move on.

Nobody would say it because nobody had the heart. And honestly, you couldn’t blame them. You didn’t want them to say it, you much preferred their reassuring words rather than the blunt truth. 

Your head snapped around at the sound of the stretcher being pulled out of the ambulance and clanking on the ground. They’d gotten John out of the car, and he was in much worse condition than you thought. The other driver too, he was bleeding profusely from his head. You swallowed hard and glanced back at the police officer, he solemnly nodded and you sprinted to the ambulance. Without missing a beat the medics let you aboard, they asked you all the same questions that the officer and the operator had asked. You answered them blankly, eyes on John the entire time. 

It took no longer than ten minutes to get to the hospital and then they were whisking John away on the stretcher. A few nurses showed you the way to the waiting room and, again, assured you things would be fine. And as well as you could read the grim expressions on their faces, you pretend to believe them, you let yourself believe he’d be okay.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and pulled it open to see a text from your brother simply saying, “Sup.”

Your eyes flickered over the keys for a moment, hesitant to reply, unsure what to say. You took a deep breath and replied as best you could with shaking fingers and blurred eyes, “Hsptial now.”

More tears fell as you stared at your phone awaiting a reply.

It buzzed and “I’m on my way.” Lit up the screen.

You let out a long sigh and laid your head against the wall behind your chair. 

Bzzzzt.

The screen lit up again, “What happened? Is everything okay?”

You couldn’t find the right words to reply with, so you didn’t. You just let your phone fall from your hands onto your lap and pressed your palms to your eyes.

_Everything will be alright._


	2. nothing will be alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He... Isn't gonna wake up, is he?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~i almost started crying writing this one...~~ jk i did cry

The sound of your feet clicking on the tile while you paced was not comforting in the least, it just made you more anxious. Your head shot up when you heard the sliding glass doors open, this was the third time, luckily this time it was your brother. 

You looked deathly pale and distraught and it was obvious Bro could tell. He didn’t say anything, just rushed over to you and grabbed your shoulders. His eyes scanned over you for a few seconds, still wordless, he pulled you into a hug. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he could see how freaked out you were, so his instinct kicked in.

A single sob escaped and you buried your face into his shoulder, your arms dead weight at your sides. He pulled back from the hug and looked you over again, “What happened? Where’s John?”

“He,” You spat out with another sob, “Accident, somebody… Hit him, t-boned him at the intersection of tenth and main. R-right on the driver’s side.” Your voice cracked and you felt yourself choke.

Bro’s expression froze in shock, “Is he alright?”

You held back another sob and slowly shook your head. “They all keep saying it’ll be alright, but I heard them talking… They.. They said he probably won’t.. he..”

You didn’t have to finish, he knew what you were trying to say. His face went from shock to terror in seconds and he pulled you into another hug. “Dave, no matter what happens, it will be alright, I promise…” You heard his voice crack, he was lying to you too. Your stomach was in knots and everything hurt. Nothing made sense and you were breathing shallowly. Why was this happening? Why John? Why a week before your wedding? It wasn’t fair.

It just…

Wasn’t fair.

Bro stood there and hugged you for a good ten minutes, and you eventually hugged back until the doctor came up to you. You broke that hug so fast in any other situation Bro would’ve made an ironic joke about getting whiplash. Your eyes immediately met the doctor’s.

“You can go see your fiance now.” His voice caught in his throat. “You may not like what you see, and you have to keep it brief, but, please go see him.”

You nodded and he led you upstairs to John’s room.

He was bandaged all over and covered in wires, the beeping on his heart monitor was almost nonexistent. Your heart sank, but you ignored the sour feeling and pushed a chair close to John’s bed. He wasn’t awake, but you grabbed his hand in yours, you really didn’t know what to do, so you started talking to him. Maybe… Maybe he could hear you.

“John? John. You gotta wake up, okay? You have to be alright, you can't... you can't die on me, we're getting married on Saturday, come on, you have to be okay. Just get up. Wake up for me, please. I swear, I'll fucking do anything, just be okay. Please be okay.” Your voice was breaking and you were trying to keep a straight tone, trying not to cry in front of him. “We've gotta have kids, remember? We were gonna adopt a little girl in a couple years.” You couldn’t help it, tears were falling again. “We've still got to fix a house up, right?”

You went silent again and stared at him, taking note of every last feature. This was not how you wanted to see him, this wasn’t fair, you just wanted him to be alright.

“You can't leave me yet, you can't. We're gonna be those faggy old codgers in a nursing home making out in our wheelchairs and making fun of the republicans.”

He still wasn’t reacting, you knew he wouldn’t but now you were on autopilot, you couldn’t stop talking. “C'mon. Fucking wake up!”

You weren’t even trying to push away tears now, the only thing you were worried about was John.“You're the one that chose that god awful fucking song, you're the one always singing it, how the fuck am I supposed to live without you, then?”

There was a knock on the door, you couldn’t pull yourself together in time before the doctor walked in.

“Dave…” He looked grim. “Dave I need you to go back to the waiting room, okay?”

You shooked your head, “Wh-why?”

He didn’t answer, just guided you out of your seat and out the door.

You didn’t fight him, you were too numb. You felt extremely sick and the only thing you wanted was John. You wanted to trade places with him even… No, then he’d be going through this. Nothing worked, John would be in pain either way. It didn’t make sense! He was always so happy, why did this happen to him! He didn’t deserve it, why the fuck did it have to happen to him!

Bro stood up immediately when you stumbled back into the waiting room. He gave a puzzled looked and glanced at the doctor who was quickly heading back to John’s room. “What happened? Why are they pushing you out?”

“They w-won’t tell me!”

“What the hell?! He’s your fiance who else are they gonna tell?” You could tell he felt awkward, he sort of just put his arm over your shoulder reassuringly. You didn’t react, just stood there. After more than a few beats of silence he spoke again, “Was he awake…?” You slowly shook your head. 

Again, fear overcame you, you had a sickening feeling John wouldn’t ever be awake again, had the hospital ever called his dad yet? Oh God, what’s his dad going to say? This is all your fault, you were supposed to be protecting John, you’re the one who let this happen. Your stomach twisted in knots again and you felt your knees buckle. It’s all your fault, John’s dying because of you… He isn’t going to be able to smile, or sing, or play piano… or anything.. Ever again and… it’s all your fault.

“Oh…” Bro’s voice was quiet, he knew as well as you John wouldn’t be waking up.

You swallowed hard and looked at Bro straight on, “He.. Isn’t going to wake up, is he?”

He sighed and gave a sad look. His hand ran through your hair, and you weren’t sure but it seemed like he would cry too. “I'm not gonna lie to you kid, not about something like this. I...don't know. I'm not a doctor, but considering what he's been through, it's not...likely that he'll wake up anytime soon. If at all.”

You nodded, you expected him to say that. No matter how many times everyone said “It’s gonna be alright.” You knew it wouldn’t, now all you could do was wait.

So you did, and not even thirty minutes had passed when the doctor came out with a grim look on his face. Your heart was sinking. He looked at you, wordlessly, and shook his head, he had a crack in his voice when he did speak.

“I’m sorry.”


	3. nothing will ever be alright again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you couldn't help but blame yourself for everything that happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> errrr, this one is a tad bit shorter than the first two, but this story is far from done.

The word’s hit you like a thousand ton brick, “I’m sorry.” He said and then he walked away. He didn’t say anything else, didn’t have to. You knew, Bro knew, everyone knew. John was dead. Your breath caught in your throat and you went completely silent. Bro’s grip around you tightened. You shook your head and wiggled out of his arms. Without thinking, you stumbled towards one of the benches in the waiting room and collapsed down. Head buried into your hands, on the verge of crying again, you had never seemed more uncool in your entire life, and frankly you didn’t even care.

You started slowly shaking your head, once again on autopilot, “No. No, no no no no no no no, fuck, shit, no, he's not- he isn't-” Nothing you wanted to say would come out, your mouth was so dry and your heart was so broken. “FUCK!” You cracked, you were sobbing, not petty little sobs either, loud heartbroken sobs.

Somewhere along the line Bro took a seat next to you, he was holding you, he was trying not to cry. “Dave...shhhh....it's?..it'll....just calm down.........shh....I...he's not...it's awful and I know but John's...I know it'd be better if he was still here but at least he's not in a shitload of pain or...or...fuck I'm sorry Dave it's all fucked up and shitty and not fair to either of you.” You were shaking, literally physically shaking from crying, from pain, from heartbreak. 

“It's my f-f-fucking fault!”

“How do you figure that?? It was an accident, keyword being the "accident" part.” Bro was trying to help, he really was, but you weren’t listening.

“I-I'm supposed to - I should have- maybe if we left sooner-”

“There is no way you could have known that this was going to happen, so stop that thought right there. Say you did leave sooner. Know what? It still could have happened just as long as there are other cars on the road. It's not your fault, and I don't want you thinkin' it is because that kind of shit will eat away at you forever if you believe it. I think you've already been hurt enough for one lifetime, you don't need anything else hurtin' you, especially somethin' ridiculous like that.” He was right, but you didn’t care, it was your fault. John was dead because of YOU.

“It doesn't f-fucking MATTER!” You couldn’t stop from yelling, from sobbing, from hyperventilating. “He’s fucking gone!”

“Yeah, I know kid. But I know what thinkin' that kind of stuff can do to a person, and I don't want you gone too, got it? I know everything's horrible and you're pissed off with right to be, but it gets better eventually. It takes time, and a lot of it, but it wont hurt so much. I promise.” He was losing his cool too, he was trying to stay strong for you, but seeing you so hurt over it was taking it’s toll on him.

Bro held you for a long, long time. And you cried, for a long time. Your heart hurt so much, nothing made sense, nothing was fair. The other driver’s family was there too. They also cried, apparently that man was a father of three… He had been fighting with his wife and went out to drink. On his way home he t-boned John.

His wife sobbed as loud as you, she called her mom, asking her how she was going to tell the kids. The man died from severe head trauma. Knowing that made your heart hurt even more, you didn’t hate whoever he was, no, but he didn’t deserve to get to take the easy way out, not after killing John.

After a few minutes you were allowed to go upstairs to the floor John was on, where you resumed being held. It’d been a good thirty minutes of silence when you heard a choked sort of sob from down the hall a ways.

You looked up and were met with the tear filled expression of John’s dad. You felt that sinking feeling in your heart again as he opened his mouth to speak. “He’s…” He trailed off, he didn’t need to finish the sentence for you to know what he was going to say. Bro nodded, you tried to choke back the tears. Did you really have any right to cry over this in front of his dad? You didn’t think so, it was his son after all… 

You didn’t know what to do, so you set yourself to autopilot again.  You walked over to him, he looked at you curiously, “I… I’m sorry.”

His changed, sad and confused, he asked, “Why?”

“I don’t f-fucking know.”

“You have no reason to be sorry, Dave.” He put a hand on your shoulder. “You did nothing wrong.” And then he did something you weren’t expecting, he hugged you, and this was no how-do-ya-do hug, he genuinely hugged you and did not let go.

You hesitated for a second and then hugged back, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying again, he didn’t seem to mind. It actually kind of sounded like he was crying too…

He was.

John’s dad was hugging you and crying.

You were hugging John’s dad and crying.

It dawned on you, the two of you… would be planning the funeral together.


	4. there has to be a way out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Your mind drifted to the tree by the river, the one you'd proposed in front of. Without giving it too much thought you swerved around, giving your bro no time to react, you knew you had to get there before he could stop you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you probably didn't notice the two new tags but  
> if you're triggered by suicide/attempted suicide i would recommend stopping right there and not finishing this  
> also i cried A LOT while writing this so uh...  
> sorry

It’d been five days since John died, and you still felt horribly empty inside. There was a hollowness that could never be filled, a numbness that would never go away. Nothing would ever be the same without John beside you when you woke up, when you brushed your teeth, when you ate breakfast, or watched movies. Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for this kind of pain, and nothing will ever get rid of it. Even if your wounds healed in time, it’d still hurt and it would never be better.

On the outside you probably looked normal, pokerfaced, dressed in your best suit, ready to put the love of your life in the ground. But on the inside… You hadn’t been okay, you wouldn’t be okay. You just wanted out, you wanted to be with John again. And maybe, after the funeral, you would be.

Your eyes flickered over to Bro when he asked, “You ready?” You gave a small nod and both of you made your way your cars. 

The drive to the funeral home was the longest, most horrible drive of your life. The city passed by, but you barely noticed, your head was filled with images of his smiling face… And then images of him before he died… And what he was going to look like in a casket. It hurt, to think about that, you didn’t think you could do it, and you were probably right.

It hurt even more when you caught yourself caught up in your own feelings like that, thinking about yourself. You weren’t the only one affected by this. You felt especially bad about your sadness when you thought of John’s dad, he lost his son… Sure, you lost the love of your life… but a child. You can’t replace a child. You can’t someday hope to meet a new kid, with as big of heart as John’s and a smile to match. If by some stroke of luck you ever found love again, it hurt to know John’s dad would never be able to simply get better and move on… He lost his son.

You shook the thoughts from your head once you’d turned into the funeral home. Your stomach was in knots for what seemed like the millionth time that week. There were already several cars there, you recognized Karkat’s, Rose’s, Jade’s, and quite a few others. One deep breath later and you were inside the doors. The funeral director gave you a sad consoling look, but that was part of his job. He led you to the room where everyone was gathered, it was deathly silent. 

Ceremoniously placed at the front of the room was a casket, John’s… Casket… His dad insisted on an open-casket funeral, and you didn’t feel you deserved a say, so you agreed. You didn’t want one, you didn’t want to see him dead, faked-up by make-up… But now you had to. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes but you fought them off, for now.

Several people turned to look at you when you entered, each and every expression you saw was nothing but pure sadness. Your eyes met Karat’s, he looked more hurt than anybody there. You swallowed hard. Maybe if John was still dating him instead of you… Maybe this wouldn’t have happened. You could tell Karkat was thinking that too, he didn’t voice his thoughts and neither did you, but it was a silent sort of agreement you’d made. 

You took a step towards him, he the same. Maybe for one day you could put aside your differences and cry together, you hoped. He took another step. So did you. You met him half way.

“Strider.” He choked out.

“Vantas.” You echoed. He stared at you for a long time, several more people were watching your interactions. Even your bro, from the doorway.

Karkat and you had a history of not getting along, especially after you started dating John when you were sixteen, but that entire history seemed to melt away when he wrapped his arms around you and didn’t let go. You hesitated for a second and hugged him back. He was much shorter than you, your shoulder was wet with his tears, you weren’t crying yet, you didn’t dare when he was crying so hard. You rubbed his back and calmed him down, pulled out of the hug and look directly into his eyes, “Karkat… I’m sorry.”

He just shook his head slowly and bit back whatever he was going to say and instead said, “It’s not your fault.” But you could tell he blamed you as much as you blamed yourself. You hugged him one last time before finally deciding it was time to do the one thing you were dreading more than anything. 

John’s dad gave you a nod of approval and everyone was watching you. You slowly, almost hesitantly, walked towards John. Your heart sank.

He was so pale, almost porcelain, you could tell lot’s of work had to be done to make him look so presentable. You choked a little and tears started running from your eyes. The suit they’d put him in… It was the suit he was to wear at the wedding. You glanced down at your own clothes. 

The day of your wedding you’re both fully dressed and ready. 

Your hands were trembling, but you took his hand into your own. His skin was so cold, it made your heart sink even more. You exhaled a long breath and pulled a little golden ring out of your breast pocket. Nobody behind you could see what you were doing, and you were almost thankful for that. You slipped the ring onto his finger and let out a breathy “I.. do.” Before breaking down and sobbing harder than you’d ever sobbed. 

John’s hand slipped from yours and you collapsed to the floor on your knees. Nobody else in the room moved, neither did you. You sat there on your knees, sobbing, for what seemed like hours. And maybe it was hours? Eventually your bro had to go up to the front, help you stand, and guide you out. You didn’t want to leave him, you wanted to be with John forever. You were supposed to MARRY him today, not BURY him. 

More sobs escaped from your mouth, you couldn’t stop them. Bro took you out into the hallway and collapsed onto the floor with you. He pulled you into his lap and held you, he rocked back and forth, and he just kept whispering that everything would be okay.

But it WOULDN’T be okay, nothing would ever be okay again. John was DEAD. He wasn’t coming back, it was YOUR fault and you wanted OUT.

People started leaving the funeral home, a lot of them crying, you caught glimpse of Rose and Jade. They didn’t say anything to you, but Rose looked at you with the saddest most understanding look she could managed. You tried to force out a small smile, but you couldn’t even manage to force it. Bro sat with you in the hallway until the funeral director came out and mentioned they were closing. You’d stopped crying over an hour ago, but that didn’t mean you wanted to leave.

Bro helped you stand, but you shook him off when he tried to help you walked. You were more than capable, despite how much you hurt. 

Once in the parking lot, he hesitantly picked his words, asking if you’d follow him home. Your head shot up and you almost yelled “No.” You were following John when he was t-boned. “You follow me.” Your tone quieted. “Please.”

“Are you even okay to drive?” He inquired. 

“I’m fine.”

He sighed, “If you say so, just be careful okay, and pay attention to the road.”

“I know that.” 

And so, you got into your beat up convertible and began the drive home, Bro right behind you. You weren’t even half way home when your mind drifted to the tree by the river, the one you'd proposed in front of. Without giving it too much thought you swerved around, giving your bro no time to react, you knew you had to get there before he could stop you.

You ere not thinking clearly at all, your were just excited at the thought of being with John again. You didn’t know what you were doing. There was a decent sized rope in the truck of your car, it tied perfect around the tree, the other end around your neck.

This was it, you were going to be with him again.

Your hear was racing and you jumped, from the highest sturdiest tree branch that would support your weight.

Hrk. You suddenly couldn’t breath, you didn’t fight it though. You were so close to seeing John.

The faint sound of a car rolling over gravel was behind you, followed by the door of that car slamming shut.

And you were blacking out, you could swear you heard somebody yell your name.

Actually, you could’ve sworn you heard your bro yell your name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is going to be a part 5


	5. this took a month because i didn't have a computer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> herpderp

"Why did you save me? I was going to see John again! Everything was gonna be great!"

"Dave, you weren't thinking clearly!" Bro's voice cracked. "You're being selfish."

"How am I being sel-"

"Shut up and listen!" He was not happy with you. "How selfish of you to take your own life because John died, to make everyone suffer through not only John's death, but yours as well." His voice cracked again. "I don't want to lose you too, and I'm sure tons of other people agree, it's hard right now, yeah, and it's gonna be, but killin' yourself is NOT the answer."

You didn't say anything, just stared at him. He looked like he was about to cry, actually he'd looked like that since you were woken up by a doctor checking your vitals a little over an hour ago. You talked to him for a little while, mind fuzzy from what had happened, but when your head cleared you realized it was Bro's voice you heard. He'd stopped you from seeing John.

And you didn't hate him, far from it in fact. Actually, you were kind of glad he'd saved you. As much as you wanted to see John, as much as it hurt, you weren't thinking, you were being foolish, and yeah, you were glad Bro got there in time. Because, he was right, how selfish to have to make everyone you love suffer from the loss of more than one.

You finally sighed and nodded, "I know that, I know it isn't the answer… just…" You trailed off because you didn't know where you were going to take that sentence.

"We all miss him Dave, you and his dad probably more than anyone, but that doesn't mean you gotta kill yourself, so please don't pull that shit again."

Another nod, wordless this time.

You and Bro sat there wordlessly for a really long time. The sun had already started setting by the time he stood up and asked of you were hungry, throwing in something about hospital food being rank and that he was stopping by Burger King…

You silently agreed but felt your heart shatter, Bro didn't know it but Burger King was where you and John had your first date, and many after it. Doctors were in and out of the room all day, and before he left one of them told bro something.

When he got back he told you they'd said they planned on keeping you over night and letting you go tomorrow around midday as long as you would agree to suicide watch for a few weeks (or months, however long they felt it was needed.) You hesitantly agreed just so you could get out of that damn place, you weren't thinking about suicide right then, but who's to say that wouldn't change one night when everything hit you, when you were at an all time low of sadness…

-EPILOGUE-

It never happened. You thought about it, sure, but never put any actions to it. At first you couldn't bring yourself to visit John's burial-plot. It took over a month of build up before you finally went, alone, one rainy Saturday morning. You sat there at his headstone for a good four hours crying and talking, telling him how things were, how much you missed him, how much his dad missed him, you just talked and talked.

After that you visited him every week. Over time your visits became less, which was perfectly normal in grieving, you'd finally come to terms with the fact that he was gone, and sure you missed him, everyone did, but nothing would change.

About a year and a half after his passing you moved to a new apartment, a smaller one, you still had all his pictures and knick-knacks. They all sat neatly on a shelf of their own in the living room. You'd stop every once in a while in front of them, sometimes just walking around with your cup of coffee, and you'd look at them, remember his smiling face, on occasion you'd cry. Sometimes the sadness came back, sometimes when that happened you'd drink.

Three years after he died you'd like to have thought you'd moved on, you hadn't visited him in a few months, you didn't know when you would again, maybe soon. The shelf with his things remained untouched minus slight movement when you occasionally dusted it.

It was your twenty-fourth birthday, just under four years since he'd died. You were at a local bar when breaking news flashed across the screen of the mounted T.V. about a bad accident at the intersection of tenth and main. You choked a little and shook your head in sorrow, you hoped whoever it was didn't have to suffer like John's friends and family did when some drunk asshole t-boned him at that intersection.

More time passed, you found yourself drinking less, working more. You had to work more, you finally decided to get a degree, sure it was a community college but it was better than working in coffee shop's all your life. When you were twenty-six you were awarded a diploma in musical arts and technology. You took that degree to Hollywood, over 1000 miles away from John.

It really hurt more than you thought it would to leave, you went and saw him before you left. Told him you'd be gone for awhile, you were going to make a name for yourself instead of being a good-for-nothing in the little town you used to call home. You told him you'd be back to see him, hell maybe next time you came back you'd have a little girl with you. John always talked about wanting to adopt a daughter, it'd be a shame to deprive him of that even after he died.

It hurt your bro to see you leave too, you assured him you'd be back, even asked if he wanted to go. He turned you down. Before you packed away the last of the boxes into your Hollywood U-haul he gave you a hug, not one of the normal o-so-bro hugs, a real genuine hug. You hugged him back. It was hard to tell but it kind of looked like there were tears on his cheeks as you were pulling out of the drive-way…

You were almost out of town when you realized you still had a stop to make. You did a quick u-turn and pulled into the cemetery. John's plot was clear towards the back, but you didn't mind. The little glass case in your hands probably wouldn't survive long out here, bro agreed to keep an eye on it for you, so did Karkat. You and him hardly talked, but occasionally bumping into each other at the store made you be less of enemies after the entire ordeal with John.

You smiled and put the little glass box onto the grass in front of his headstone. "Figured you'd might want this back."

And your smile started to shake.

And a few tears started to fall, but they were good tears. The kind of tears that said it would be okay.

You tried to keep your smiled as you stood back up and looked at the tombstone and small glass case containing the bunny you'd given John over thirteen years ago.

"Everything's gonna be alright."


End file.
